


Confession is Good for the Soul

by orphan_account



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Conversations that need to be had, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 20:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate isn't just stirring up stew. She's stirring up trouble for herself. How can our favourite monk empower her to extricate herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession is Good for the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Written way back in 2009 for the "Write Kate Right" competition at the "Treat Much Right" Livejournal community. I had forgotten about this until someone brought up the old BBC Robin Hood series, so hunted it out in order to post it here!

Somewhere in the forest, hidden under a dense canopy of leaves and branches, a young woman cursed softly over a bubbling pot, tearing herbs apart roughly, and depositing them into the pot. The small but admittedly homely place that the outlaws called their camp, was devoid of the men who usually inhabited it.  
  
The young woman – Kate – stirred the contents of the pot and sighed. Much's cooking left much to be desired, though she tended to eat it without complaint anyway, putting up with it just as the other lads did. Just for once, she wanted to make something that would taste better than the roasted.... was it rat or what?... that he had made, several days in a row. As she stirred the stewing roots and vegetables, Kate found herself beginning to appreciate the difficulties Much sometimes had with finding something semi-edible for meals...  
  
Just then, footsteps gently crunched closer to the hide. Kate froze, not daring to move a single muscle. Had the outlaw camp been found? The door swung open, and Kate relaxed, rolling her eyes at her paranoia. It was just Tuck.  
  
“I see Robin hasn't returned,” Tuck stated.  
  
“Still off gallivanting with Much,” Kate replied sourly, without looking up. Consulting her recipe, she returned to savagely tearing apart pieces of plant and sprinkling the parts into the stew. Tuck eyed it curiously, tilting his head. When she didn't meet his gaze, he prompted, “something from home?”  
  
Kate looked up at this. Biting her lip, she nodded. The stew recipe had been a favourite of her grandmother's, passed down to successive generations. She sighed. “All of this. It's a mistake. I ought to be helping my mum. She needed the extra hands. When we were in the village the other day, she didn't seem to be doing so well.”  
  
Tuck nodded, setting himself down across from Kate and crossing his legs. He was looking at her over the top of the stew pot. “Things haven't exactly been easy on Locksley recently,” He said thoughtfully, “nor anywhere else, for that matter. Prince John continues to tighten his grip, Isabella --” Kate made a face at this. Isabella was only one among her problems. How could someone so blatantly manipulative become the object of anyone's affections? Tuck seemed to disregard Kate's expression, his voice firm. “Isabella, is very much her brother's sister... and I worry about the influence she seems to hold over Robin.”  
  
“Couldn't agree more,” Kate agreed, glancing down at her recipe, then stirring the stew pot.  
  
Tuck sighed. “Kate...”  
  
“What?” Sometimes, men could be so frustrating! Particularly the “holier than thou” type, and Tuck was definitely beginning to strike Kate as such. “Look, if you got something to say, then say it, don't get all mysterious on me. I can't read your mind you know!”  
  
“Very well,” Tuck arched an eyebrow, and folded his arms. “Kate, I'm worried about YOU.”  
  
Kate snorted softly. Here it comes, she thought. The age-old lecture about how girls should be looked after and--  
  
“I'm serious,” Tuck said, his face softening. It was as though his eyes could see right into her. When Kate shivered, he continued, “I can understand you being homesick, I can't say I blame you. I don't think any of us could ever replace your family.”  
  
“I...” Kate started, then paused. “Thank you. Really. It's not that I don't appreciate it, I do...”  
  
“I'm sure,” Tuck nodded his agreement. “Just as I – and I'm sure everyone else, appreciates everything that you do.”  
  
“What, you mean like having to play helpless maiden to a pair of – of – overgrown boys?!”  
  
Tuck blinked, then chuckled. “I thought that might be bothering you.”  
  
“I'm sick of it!” Kate exclaimed, waving her spoon so vigorously that she accidentally spattered the bunks and ground with sauce from the stew. Not appearing to notice, she added, “I don't even like them. Either of them!”  
  
“Touché,” Tuck murmured. “They really are doing what they feel is best, Kate, but I can't say I blame you for feeling... stifled?”  
  
Kate stabbed at the stew miserably with her spoon. “Stifled doesn't really cover it.” It was, she considered, something of an understatement. She just wanted them to treat her like she was capable, and allow her to do things for herself. Tuck seemed to be doing some thinking, nodding slightly. She just wanted their –  
  
“Respect,” Tuck said, “is not something easily won. I think that's what you're looking for, yes?”  
  
“Yeah,” Kate whispered.  
  
“Well then, I have just the solution,” Tuck smiled. “In order to win their respect, you must prove yourself.”  
  
Kate blinked. Prove herself? “Uhm, excuse me?” She asked. “You mean fighting alongside them and saving their backsides isn't enough for me to 'prove' myself?!”  
  
Tuck chuckled. “You misunderstand me,” He replied calmly. “Proving oneself can take many forms. Bravery in combat is only one facet of the word. However, it takes just as much bravery, to stand up to one's friends.”  
  
“You want me.... to confront them?” Kate asked quietly. She had often considered doing so, but, she had wondered if they would listen.  
  
“Next time they treat you as incapable or belittle your skills by acting as if you are a helpless maiden, you stand up to them. It is only in correcting erroneous behaviour, can we ever learn.” Tuck paused, his eyes making contact with hers. “Do you understand, Kate? Can you do that?”  
  
For the first time all day, Kate smiled as she nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”  
  
***  
Not long after:  
  
“Put them out of their misery, will you?”  
  
“He's right,” Kate nodded, swallowing past the anger. How many times had she wanted to shout at them until she was blue in the face? How many times had she bitten back the very thing that could free her from her role, in their minds, as a helpless maiden? Tuck had given her a chance. It was time to take it. “You know, I'm sick of you two trying to protect me. We've got to keep our minds on the mission.”  
  
Allen and Much glanced at each other, then guiltily at the ground, before looking to Tuck, who was stern-faced, barely containing his irritation at both men. Perhaps now, Kate reflected, they would treat her with a little more respect. As that thought rolled around her head, soothing and remedying the last vestiges of anger, she couldn't help a tiny smile.  
  
Tuck had been right, and now it was time to be brave again, in the former sense of the term....


End file.
